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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178004">PsychV</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrotheology44/pseuds/Astrotheology44'>Astrotheology44</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Katekyou Hitman Reborn!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Can be taken as either friendly or romance but there is flirting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Unrealistic expectations of Byakuran not getting fired sooner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:29:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,172</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrotheology44/pseuds/Astrotheology44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A minimum of eighteen days can sometimes suffice to form a habit. </p><p>It takes Shouichi a little bit less, specifically four less, to get hooked on caffeine and other things that come with it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Byakuran &amp; Irie Shouichi, Byakuran/Irie Shouichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>PsychV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>       </p><p>          He'd been sentenced to a small time frame of only two weeks until finals. </p><p>A testament of habitual determination, his messenger bag packs notes, graphs and textbooks as much as he needs to ace it, along with a study playlist and the properly tucked away headphones. It's all neatly scheduled so the effort doesn't need to slip out of line and Shouichi thinks he can get this all done ahead of time if he plays his cards right. </p><p>    The only remaining issue is, with all of his extracurricular involvement that used the program's hours in the laboratories, they are now assigned primarily to the first years. The library, another potentially suitable space, finds itself shut during this time of the year. He has wondered initially whether he is out of options. Not much can get done by going back home to a family that doesn't respect study hours.</p><p>    There is the alternative of the caffès on campus, <em>sure</em>, but they have never been appealing and it is a lot less appealing now under the risk of commotion drowning out all of his focus. </p><p>He does ask around to find which is the quietest one, classmate regulars tell him <em>none</em> <em>of them</em> are really quiet but there is this one that manages to keep things organized.</p><p>Organized is a happy word right now, a <em> needed </em> one. He reasons that's a reasonable enough starting point and marks ' <em> Coffee place, first floor </em>' on the calendar beneath each course, from five p.m. to nine p.m. .</p><p> </p><p>          He arrives at five on the first day, on Monday even, and the decorum is rather corny and fancy with a mixture of latte browns and oddly loud-looking paintings in the lights. For the most part it's a sane enough looking space. </p><p>No loud pop nor latino music is playing and for this he is grateful.</p><p>  His eyes fixate hopefully, immediately, on a table in the furthest spot back next to a cozy heater and enough sockets for both his laptop and his music. He doesn't have to stand in line for much, which he is also grateful for, even with the small growing press of anxiety given by the occupying of seats occurring between his turn in the line and the four people before him. </p><p>Eventually, he makes it. </p><p> </p><p>"An espresso and a regular, please. Quick, if you can. Thank you." </p><p>He tells the employee mechanically, looking down to adjust the overflow of textbooks and papers threatening to escape his bag when he opens to dig his wallet out. </p><p>    He knows two drinks is a stronger deal for four hour study sessions but doesn't want to risk falling asleep mid study session in public. Anything <em>but</em> that again. Doubling up on caffeine in spurts it is.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Espresso and a regular"</em> the employee taking his order, which he'd only focused on the oddly graceful fingers of,<em> sing-songs </em> it, parroting it back. </p><p>Luckily out of mind so that not the <em> entirety </em>of the bar could hear, but it does make Shouichi turn up to look at the stranger.</p><p>Strange he <em> is </em> . It's like looking at an illuminated oil painting come to life, all soft edges and light brushes. He's greeted by a smiling face and curious catlike eyes -blue- <em> lavander? </em>- he wonders.</p><p> </p><p>"Small, medium, large?" He's asked in the same airy voice for sizing, the other even gesticulating, but he is having trouble still processing the interaction. This barista's seemingly cheery and overly bright disposition seems to persevere. </p><p>    It's so early in the evening for getting this distracted. </p><p> </p><p>"Short espresso, large regular please. Very little sugar." He doesn't want it getting through his bloodstream that fast.</p><p> </p><p>"Gotcha!" He is winked at. A bit unprofessional, he thinks but does not say. </p><p>The other turns to fetch his order and he is seeing the most punkish looking pastel attire he's seen on anyone on campus, makes him surprised he'd never taken note of this person before- must make for an awfully popular sight.</p><p>     Even as he does resist running away now, maybe coming here wasn't a good idea.</p><p> </p><p>"Can I wait at a table here for my order?" He asks, a bit loud and on edge. He thinks the other doesn't hear.</p><p>The barista- "<em> Byakuran </em> "- <em> reads his name tag </em>- turns to him with promisingly warm caffeine drinks in hand, a certificate of fast and fine service, sets them down and leans against the counter almost too casually.</p><p> </p><p>"Mm,well you see! We have a bit of a system here. It's how we keep some tables full and some tables free. Many dedicated students like yourself come here to study." </p><p>He takes labels from a drawer, slaps them on the cups. Takes a pen to scribble- <em> colorful </em>, Shouichi notes.</p><p>He's observed then, the other looks to him, black uniform contrast to white hair much like the sugar in the dark packets he just handed him, and he seems expectant.</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Ah </em>,yes. Excuse me. Shouichi. Irie Shouichi."</p><p> He could only assume he's being waited on for his name to be written. </p><p>That smile brightens into a toothy grin, the other's eyes sparkling with amusement.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, it's nice to meet you Shou-chan. But we usually write the majors on the cups with the table numbers. Everyone who comes here is from on campus. It makes it so much easier differentiating areas and keeping tables separate."</p><p><em> Oh </em>. His stomach does an embarrassed small flip. At both the off nickname and the mishap.</p><p> </p><p>"Physics." He manages to say with some degree of redness.</p><p>Byakuran doesn't seem phased in the least. If anything, he quirks up in interest. </p><p> </p><p>"The theoretical sort or the practically inclined?"</p><p>He can't imagine it like that. </p><p> </p><p>"You do need both for things to work out." He states, grateful he can elaborate on something that puts him less on the spot. </p><p>He's awarded a nod, a very satisfied flash of the other's smile and his two heated fragrant coffee cups in hand, both labeled <em> 'PsychV' </em>.</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Indeed </em> you do. To table five you go. " </p><p>He can't describe the relief of table five being exactly the one he had wanted.</p><p> </p><p>          From there on out, plugging in the headphones, riling up an array of open textbooks and two auxiliary helper books for calculus he gets to surprisingly undisturbed work that is not so unpleasant.</p><p> </p><p>     He does scoff at having been given more sugar packs then he had asked for. </p><p>He's trying to obtain a degree, not a disease. But the strong taste of the coffee does the trick and the first study session is a success by nine and a half p.m. </p><p> He makes it out just in time before closing hours, having carefully avoided looking back in the bar's direction the whole day.</p><p> </p><p>          He checks in at five again on Tuesday because punctuality counts, and he understands the system here a bit more. The same barista on duty everbright is shouting out table numbers every now and then as he waits in line. </p><p>    It's a flurry of <em> "Chemistry at four!" </em> and many melodious iterations of things like <em> 'Cybernetics at twelve! Math at eight!' </em> in which he can hear the inflexion of tone brought by the other's smile. Good grief, what <em> energy </em>. </p><p>    His hand almost twitches for the escape of headphones too soon, but at the same time it isn't such bad background noise compared to other spaces.</p><p> </p><p>"Hi, um. Same thing as before please: Espresso, small and a large regular." He's hoping he can still get table Five.</p><p>"I remember." Fox-like grin and all he gets the reply. <em> Oh </em> , <em> great </em>.</p><p>    Thankfully he isn't winked at again or anything of that sort, just handed his order with little fuss. The other is wearing a shade of purple that is cooler today, <em> it fits him- </em> he absentmindedly observes.</p><p>His coffee is prepared and the other holds it up for him. He reaches to take it and notices the unfinished label. There's <em> 'Phys' </em>and that's all today. He doesn't get the system anymore. </p><p> </p><p>"<em> See </em> . If you wait a minute," Byakuran helpfully supplies, taking out the shut pen and <em> tap-tapping </em>it on the counter with an easy rhythm " you can get table Five again."</p><p> </p><p>"Oh." He notes it to be true as the couple of people seated there are currently gathering their coats and scarves and chatting their last minutes here.</p><p> "Thanks."</p><p>There's a little bit of an awkward silence, before he hears self-satisfied small laughter . </p><p> </p><p>"So..Are they discovering anything new on the functions of dark matter yet in physics?" He gets the feeling he's being teased.</p><p> </p><p>"I don't think it's going to be me to tell you that." He'd been more or less involved with less abstract pursuits, knows some theories but can't claim to be up to date.</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Shame </em> ." And then he's given the cups with full notations of <em> 'PhysV' </em>once again and sent on his way.</p><p>
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</p><p>    He's starting to think he misjudged the other, as the weight of people clears out and he sets the headphones down to prevent a vibration induced headache, he sees Byakuran surfing through tables to clean and people to greet and stopping to spare him a look.  </p><p> He seems interested in the textbooks, a fairly conversational person and a less annoying presence overall than Shouichi had initially pegged him to be.</p><p>"Oh, is that on energy? I've heard about this course. Fancy." Byakuran remarks and lightly brushes hands over his textbooks and Shouichi panics for no apparent reason at first. </p><p> </p><p>He explains it's only part of his course. There's three parts to it really, most of it, <em> yes </em> , <em> is </em>about energy.</p><p>    Out of curiosity, he asks the other for his own major. </p><p> </p><p>"Biology! Well, botany to be more exact. I always had a knack for the flowering plants. They speak if you know how to listen." This fits in with the glamorously romanticized image he initially imagined for the man, silly as is. He nods and keeps listening.</p><p> </p><p>"I ended up here this year because I thought it would be fun. But I somehow seem to have gotten in a rut again."  The other explains, looking deep in thought, a hint of discontentment.</p><p> </p><p>"You can still look." Shouichi supplies. Hopes it will lift the weird gloom of the moment.</p><p> </p><p>"You're <em> right </em>..." his companion looks straight at him with forthright seriousness. Some form of determination brews behind his eyes as he seems to consider new possibilities. In between the jovial tune and the strange fixations he finds he doesn't understand Byakuran's system of functioning. </p><p>He's still left with warm cups and aromas, more marked subchapters off his schedule and it is sufficient to keep coming back for now.</p><p>
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</p><p>          On Wednesday he progresses to the second chapter. He's proud. It's <em> working </em>.</p><p>He's developing the very modest beginning of a caffeine addiction due to choosing this place to frequent, but he still immerses in the task more with it than without it. </p><p>    He stays until all the other tables clear out. He has this odd feeling throughout the day that he's being watched, whether in contemplation or disapproval he doesn't know. </p><p>Every time he does spare a glance towards the bar it's busy and it's nothing out of the ordinary. </p><p>    He goes back to the chapters in front of his nose, grateful he's currently off the calculus and problematics of it for now but missing the sensation of seeing his study take shape. At least it isn't the highly abstract, theoretical and unclear part of the course yet- as much as the possibility of bending space-time is <em> exciting </em>and fuels research, he still finds it currently within the realm of the fantastic. </p><p>    He thinks back fondly on the few seminars he had taken in automation and robotics with a dear friend and wishes he could see the excitement of experimental projects that work conclusively again.</p><p> </p><p>          Thursday is a bit out of the ordinary. Said friend texts him as if by divine coincidence. Invites him to an exposition on automations in space-travel engineering. He wants to go, he <em> really </em>does. He explains he can't right now with finals and all but he is a little bit disappointed. They compromise with a quick call to at least meet and chat and play D&amp;D with their study group of last year and after that the two of them can hang out. </p><p>He's good friends with Spanner and he does want to keep it that way.</p><p>    Byakuran heard him, rude and invasive as it is to eavesdrop, he was in the vicinity and he doesn't seem very ashamed about any of it.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, you play, too. What's your go to class?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well,my friends ended up assigning me mechanic the first few times and I prefer support most of the time. So, mainly that." He humors him a reply.</p><p> </p><p>"Hmm, <em> not </em>your go to then?"</p><p> </p><p>"Originally I was going to go for bard or something more offensive and cool. But that's a bit silly for me maybe." He would have felt too self-conscious holding an engaged or boisterous role for that much amount of time.</p><p> </p><p>"Nonsense, you would charm everyone there is to charm and get the quests done." He gets the odd sense he's being flirted with.</p><p> </p><p>"You play?" He switches the subject before he can feel flustered.</p><p> </p><p>"Yep! I usually default to cleric. I like to make healer-type characters but I am a bit too selfish. And sometimes when I want to mess things up, I change that up!" </p><p>That's..? <em> OK </em>.. Somehow he can't fully see the man playing an entirely lovable support healer, even for all his charisma and brightness his lack of boundaries and occasionally the lack of basic considerations is off putting.</p><p> </p><p>"Hopefully you respect the guidelines and the DM at least." </p><p>He adds, because he is considering maybe one day he could add more and invite him to join them.</p><p>He considers it less when all he gets in response is an enigmatic shrug and a non-committal "<em> Sometimes </em>."</p><p>    He thinks he can be left at that. He opens the course with a long suffering sigh after he's left alone at the table and he gets back to reading.</p><p>    He realizes after a while as his playlist skips, that he likes the song playing in the caffè more. There is a strong bassline, drums composing a rock piece he doesn't know and pauses his player for. It's faint but he's bored and he finds himself tapping to the rhythm of it on the plastic table's surface, knuckles against the material.</p><p> </p><p><em> "A fine tune, dear bard </em>." </p><p>    He gives Byakuran an exasperated look.</p><p>    Upon leaving that day, however, he somehow feels more validated than embarrassed.</p><p>
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</p><p>          Byakuran is doing something stranger than usual the next day. </p><p>It's Friday and he was so absorbed in understanding Maxwell's formulas on light, impeccably attractive in theory compared to the calculation required for applications as most things tend to be. </p><p>    He thinks the other is here to tell him they're closing up because he only registers a shadow approaching and then the stark white of the other's shirt moving next to him.</p><p>"S-sorry. I just have a little bit more-" ' <em> And I'll go' </em>, he wants to clarify but he looks up and it's table Six, the one next to him, that Byakuran is clearing up dust and leftovers from. </p><p> </p><p>He sees the other bring a finger over his lips, hears <em> 'Shhhh </em> " and thinks <em> 'Huh? </em>' before he can see the way his service provider is cutting off the bitten-into parts of leftover sweets before claiming them for himself.</p><p> </p><p>"Thy're pfyd frr."<em> Paid for, </em>he makes out.  It’s the righteous justification he heard in between the other ingesting a mouthful of remnant marshmallow cakes.</p><p> He witnesses said culprit smuggling three creampuffs back to the bar from clearing tables Nine and Ten and marvels at the lack of increase in his bodyweight. To ward off that mass, he'll have to expand <em> a lot </em>of energy.</p><p>    Byakuran ducks not so gracefully behind the counters where there is glass. Shouichi can see him but the cameras can't record how the other devours the first two salvaged cream puffs <em> in one go </em> and unceremoniously wipes his sugared hands on the ends of the uniform. What a <em> carefree hazardous mess </em>he is. </p><p>He looks to the barista and laughs and shakes his head disapprovingly but doesn't mean it. Byakuran laughs with him and it's a little secret he joins in on.</p><p> He's let to know when the day ends that it's the end of the week and these <em> "delicious goods!" </em> as he puts it with a dreamy expression are to be otherwise thrown away.</p><p>He considers buying a cake once just to leave it for Byakuran, but he doesn't want to contribute to the other's bad habits after all nor to make his wallet cry more than is necessary.</p><p>
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</p><p>          He goes home for the weekends. Revision is oddly dull if not for the hum of the music in his ears keeping him going. He might just find himself perhaps just a little small amount disappointed that between the drumline and the bassline here there is no overhearing of table numbers being called out in the way he's used to. </p><p>
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</p><p>          Next Monday, he's actually glad to be back. </p><p> </p><p>"I'm all packed. Going to probably be here until you close, if you can let me know when."</p><p> </p><p>"Sure thing,<em> but </em> .." Byakuran frowns- <em> almost pouts </em> at him deeply. Out of place.</p><p> </p><p>"What is it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Your order is wrong. And I'm not doing it today."</p><p>'Huh?' Shouichi's eyebrows furrow in confusion.</p><p> </p><p>"You yourself are an exceptionally <em> interesting </em>person, Shou-chan." </p><p>    He doesn't know what he did to warrant the hyperbolic compliments and borderline flirtatiousness. He hesitates to say anything. Lets the other drag on.</p><p> </p><p>"But your order is always a <em> regular </em> , your schedule <em> regular </em> , <em> regular </em>table.. I can't indulge you until you pick something else."  He says it like an ultimatum, standing up straight and waiting on him to concede.</p><p>    He <em> can't </em>be serious. Shouichi wonders whether this is some new odd sales gimmick being used on him but it's doubtful with the earnest looks he'd been given.</p><p> He needs the caffeine anyway.  "<em> Fine </em>."</p><p> </p><p>    He's greeted by a mixture of condiments and flavorings as Byakuran pulls more and<em> more </em> of them out in order, listing " <em> Cinnamon, Ginger, Lavender, Peppermint, Anise, Raspberries, Coconut- </em>"</p><p> He stops the man before he gets to ramble more, thinks<em> 'Screw it.' </em></p><p> </p><p>"Hot pepper. All in." He notices the one on the far left.</p><p>Byakuran <em> whistles </em> at him and he actually looks <em> astonished </em>for once.</p><p> </p><p> "Are you sure? We do have that but it's a special for a reason after all."</p><p> </p><p>"I'm sure." </p><p> </p><p>    He's handed what is probably the spiciest coffee on campus and the usual espresso still as a compromise and he does feel a bit more special.</p><p>
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</p><p>    He doesn't much appreciate the change of pace, the drink tempts him before he can get through the more complex aspects of today's papers.</p><p> In between the names of particles he grows tired. Somewhere along the line the <em> up quarks, down quarks and charm quarks </em> float between intrusive mentions of <em> cinnamon, ginger, lavender. </em></p><p>He needs to wake up, so he takes the coffee.</p><p>    He realizes soon enough he really shouldn't have done this considering his stomach predicament. His throat <em> burns </em> , his lungs <em> sting </em>, he's not going to have a fun time when he gets home and it's a good thing he brought tissues.</p><p> Byakuran finds the mercy in him to bring a glass of milk on the house after gleefully witnessing the spectacle of him trying to reign in the sputtering and coughing for ten minutes. </p><p>He tries his hardest to take his glasses off for cleaning without touching his eyes.</p><p>    It's kind of worth it to hear the <em> "My, </em> you've got <em> fire </em> . <em> " </em> directed his way when he checks out for the day.</p><p>
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</p><p>          On Tuesday he comes in determined to get through the last chapter. It's technically squeezable during those hours and that should leave the following two days all for revisions, plus two days within the margin of error. </p><p>    He is beginning to have an idea of what he wants to do for his thesis as well and he's itching for the usual odd chat of the day.</p><p>    He goes in and stands in line as usual. Smiles a bit remembering his misadventure of the day before and waits to pick a flavour that hopefully won't try to kill him this time.</p><p> </p><p>          Byakuran isn't there. </p><p>    He looks down lower than his usual eyeline and sees a girl with dark hair and lustrous wide blue eyes who smiles and greets him, soothing in a way.</p><p> </p><p>"Hello. <em> Caffiori </em>, what can I get for you?" she asks.</p><p>He stutters. Wants to ask<em> 'Where's-' </em> and a <em> "Wh-" </em>does come out confused but he remembers himself.</p><p> </p><p>"Yes. Excuse me. Short espresso and a large regular, please." </p><p> </p><p><em> 'Yuni </em>, reads her name tag.'  It also says Management. He thinks he could ask her but doesn't want to be rude. It must be difficult for such a young girl to be put in charge of running anything here, even filling in. He wonders if the other had sick leave.</p><p>    The coffee cups are placed in his hands for the day and he works entirely undisturbed. Nobody sings, nobody shouts table numbers. He even chose his own table now, all the way into what used to be the engineering area.</p><p> It's good, but it's missing something. The coffee is delicious still but it lacks a certain vital quality.</p><p>
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</p><p>          He comes in on Wednesday and it's the same thing.</p><p>The study material is a bit challenging again so he can drown out the disappointment through focus and willpower. It's frustrating when the subjects get increasingly more complex towards the end of the course, fatigue and caffeine and a sour mood don't mix well.</p><p>
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</p><p>    On Thursday he <em> does </em>ask. He asks Yuni if there had been any changes in the staff and system. </p><p>She gives him a knowing look and he does feel some surge of intuition, a small amount of <em> deja-vu </em> in being put on the spot by the baristas of this small cafe on floor one.</p><p> </p><p>"Why don't you come by tomorrow, early hours and see?" She offers and leaves him on that riddle.</p><p> Minutes after, he asks her what other flavors are there on the menu only to hear the listing again.</p><p>    He picks <em> lavender tea </em> and it's strangely non-caffeinated in comparison to all else he'd had but he pushes through the sleepiness for the night, struggles through it.</p><p>
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</p><p>          On Friday, he follows the instructions. He has a gap in between lectures and it's nearing the holidays anyways. Things get lax. </p><p>    He finds himself lodged in the shop where it's just him and Yuni, so quiet and pristine in the mornings. She offers him cookies and says they are homemade, family recipe. </p><p>He appreciates the kindness but there is a worry. Is the other <em> sick </em>? Is this another marketing ploy?</p><p>    He's shaken out of his thoughts by the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He turns to follow it and finds relief.</p><p> </p><p>"Yo! Shou-chan."</p><p>    It's odd seeing him without the uniform, the strangeness is now omnipresent in the ruffled rough-edged style paired with a tailored cream long coat.</p><p> </p><p>"You have it for me?" He asks and Shouichi almost thinks it's about him- <em> Was he supposed to bring something?- </em> before Yuni interjects. <em> "Yes." </em> And hands the man a signed copy of a form before going back to her business.</p><p>Byakuran props himself on an empty table for a moment. "It's my resignation."</p><p> </p><p>"You quit?!"</p><p> </p><p>"I had to. You told me something and you were right. Thank you."</p><p>Shouichi isn't sure he wants to be the engine that drives the man to extreme life choices. </p><p> </p><p>"That's good. I guess. What are you going to do next?"</p><p>    Byakuran perks up, same manner he always has, and Shouichi finds himself familiarized.</p><p> </p><p>"Well! I was thinking of many things, actually! Some small changes, some big. I'm thinking of starting my own thing."</p><p>He definitely may have the energy and resolution to pull that through, Shouichi believes him and tells him as much.</p><p>Yuni clears her throat, a signal that customers are coming in. </p><p>"<em> Uh-Oh </em>." he hears the other mutter jokingly and wave at her as they scramble together towards the door for the first time.</p><p> </p><p>          They walk out and Shouichi muses. </p><p> </p><p>"You know.." He slows his steps and finds Byakuran following suit. </p><p>"You did make some pretty great coffee, though."</p><p>Byakuran blinks owlishly and grins.</p><p> "Oh,I can still make some for you. I'll see you around. <em> For sure </em>."</p><p> </p><p>    He receives a pat on the back, a look that gives him an odd sense of connection and the other's hands slip to shake his-<em> he thinks- </em> before he's handed a note.</p><p> </p><p>          And then Byakuran is gone. </p><p>    Shouichi thinks he still has three days for rehearsing all that material, thanks himself for anticipating this margin of error. Because he figures he needs them as he opens his palm and finds a phone number scribbled onto the crumpled piece of paper.</p><p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>After drafting much darkfic my brain got mad at me and went like- you know what? Let's write super indulgent and sweet no bad ending coffee shop AUs. It's a bit ironic 10051 popped into my head for it, especially because I have something in the works with them that isn't cute at all. But I hope something in here is likeable. Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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